Twin Wishes
by xxsommer
Summary: Six-year-old Apollo and Artemis finally meet their father and king, Zeus.


The island of Delos appeared entirely deserted as the waves crashed gently on the shore. Towards the horizon, Poseidon rode his shining golden chariot over the water, keeping the sea steady and calm.

Tiny infant sea turtles crept their way up the beach–their glittery shells reflecting brilliant light–as birds flew overhead, across the rocky peaks of the mountains, and down into the lowness of the blossomed valley.

Voices could be heard from the wooded center of the island, where hare, stag, and wild dog resided. Two young children–both lovely and fair-haired–came stampeding down the side tor, their laughter consuming the earlier quietness. Not a single cloud littered the sky as the sun–_Helios_–shone brightly downward on the sand.

When the children reached the water, they hurled themselves into it, as if they had been craving its coolness for ages. They splashed each other and laughed, skillfully keeping themselves afloat, as their mother, Leto, watched them from the coastline. Though her face was besieged with concern, she was a vision in white, with her golden hair flowing down her back and glistening in the sunlight.

She glanced uncertainly towards the horizon every few seconds, breathing a sigh of relief every time she saw nothing forming there. Poseidon had disappeared into the water, but it was not _he _she was concerned about, but his brother. Her concentration was broken when a high-pitched shriek erupted from her daughter, Artemis, who was chasing her twin brother, Apollo, in the deep of the water.

Artemis laughed and struggled to grasp on to her brother's robes as he teased her and swam quickly away. They seemed to be playing some sort of game.

"Children," Leto warned, calling out to them, "stop playing so rough. I do not want you ripping each other to shreds."

The twins' eyes abruptly turned cheerless as they splashed about in the water. Apollo had just begun to open his mouth to protest, when he was interrupted by the deafening noise of thunder brewing in the sky.

The sun still shone over them, but lightning flashed ominously in the clouds, sending the entire island still. The twins watched as, suddenly, the sky cracked open and a golden chariot pulled by a single white stallion descended down to earth.

Before Leto could make out the driver, she ran hastily to the edge of the sea, ushering her children to land. "Apollo, Artemis," she ordered, knowing what was to happen next, "you must get out of the water and come to me."

Terrified, the twins swam to shore and huddled themselves close to their mother. They all watched as the chariot landed in the sand near the sea, causing the stallion to bellow deeply with distaste. The man that stepped off was tall and bearded, dressed in stunning white robes. He was as radiant as Leto, perhaps even more so.

Leto stepped forward, putting her two children behind her. "Zeus," she addressed, nodding politely towards her former lover.

Zeus nodded back at her, his face stern, as he adjusted his golden crown. He did not understand exactly why she appeared so taken aback to see him here. He promised he would come on the day of the twins' sixth birthday: today.

Leto's eyes narrowed as she stepped nearer, putting a firm hand on the god's muscled arm. "You may see them," she informed him, gritting her teeth, "but I beg you not to take my sun and moon from me." She looked away–releasing him–before adding quietly, "They are all I have."

Zeus peered behind her towards the young Apollo and Artemis, who simply stared back in wonder. "Of course not," he whispered, smiling at his children, "I have just come to visit them, as we planned many moons ago."

More reassured, Leto nodded and sidestepped away, revealing her children with some regret. They were truly striking with shimmering golden hair and skin, their large eyes surrounded by a multitude of thick lashes.

Leto's lips turned up into a tight smile. "My darlings," she announced, holding back the tears in her eyes, "this is your father, Zeus."

The twins blinked in unison, continuing to stare at the radiant man before them. They stood, feet apart, not moving from their places several feet away.

Leto sighed, feeling conflicted. She both desired to interfere and understood that it might ultimately upset the fragile situation. Finally, after much uncomfortable silence, she pushed herself from the rock she had been leaning on. "How about," she offered, "you all look for seashells together?"

Artemis–always the adventurer–was the first to respond. She marched right up to Zeus and placed her small hand in his, before tugging him down the beach to where the shells were.

Zeus chuckled and followed.

Leto watched her daughter go before she went to crouch down next to her always stubborn Apollo. She asked, her voice soft, "You do not want to join them, my dearest?"

Apollo shook his head and looked away towards the sea.

Leto let out a deep breath she had realized she had been holding. "Your father has come all this way to see you," she reminded him, softly touching his flushed cheek, "the least you can do is be respectful and go and speak with him."

Apollo mumbled something unintelligible.

On the other side of the beach, Artemis was rummaging the sand for shells. She carefully picked up a small pink one and turned it over in her hands. "Papa?" she inquired, rubbing the sand away from between its crevices.

Zeus looked down at her, proud that his daughter was not bashful to use to the word. His voice was uncharacteristically soft and parental when he answered, "Yes, my sweet?"

Young Artemis sighed and indifferently placed her shell in father's large hand. She decided to get right to the point. She questioned, almost accusingly, "When do Apollo and I get to come see you on Mount Olympus?"

The inquiry caught Zeus off guard. "You know of the palace on Mount Olympus?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

His daughter smiled wickedly. "I know," she giggled, "about _everything._"

Zeus shook his head in disbelief, and rolled the shell around in his hands. The sound of the ocean waves collided with his thoughts. He paused for only a moment before he assured, "Soon, my darling, soon." He closed his palm with the shell inside. "I will have your brother Hephaestus craft a golden throne fixed with jewels, just for you," he pledged, looking toward to Leto, who was slowly coaxing Apollo their way, "but until then you both must be patient and mind your mother."

Artemis made a face. "I do not like jewels," she stated with absolute certainty only a six-year-old could behold.

Zeus looked down at her and smiled. He opened his closed palm and, presently where the shell had just been, there lay a single a glistening pearl. He posed, smirking, "Have you ever even seen one?"

Artemis beamed as her father fastened the pearl into her golden hair with a solitary piece of flexible sea glass. Eventually, after much marveling over her small accessory, she ran–distractedly–off further down the beach to collect more seashells.

Zeus stayed where he was, watching her as she prodded at a lifeless starfish. His booming voice caused the birds resting in the trees to suddenly fly off northward, when he called after her, "What _do_ you like?"

He could hear her laughter as she glanced his way, her green eyes glittering impishly. "Hunting," she called back.

Zeus furrowed his brow–astounded–and turned to see Apollo standing next to him. The boy did not utter a word, and yet he carried a distinct power with him that could not be ignored. Leto stood behind her son, a hand placed carefully on his shoulder. Her expression seemed troubled.

"It seems I have missed quite a lot," Zeus told her, sounding exhausted, as he lowered himself down onto a large flat rock.

Leto nodded, watching her daughter as she dipped her toes apprehensively into the sea. Several minutes of silence passed, before Artemis–subconsciously sensing the tension–came back to where her family was gathered. She climbed onto her father's knee and played with the pearl in her hair.

Zeus's horse eventually interrupted the quiet when he snorted stridently. Zeus laughed and clapped his hands in impatience, as if he were waiting for this. "I have a proposition for my twins," he declared.

That was enough to attract both Apollo and Artemis's attentions. Together they both glanced up to their father, who spoke with a king's authority.

"I shall allow you both six wishes," Zeus continued, "one for every year of your lives that I have missed."

Leto scoffed. "Bribing our children, Zeus," she stated, aggravated, "you cannot be serious."

Artemis, however, had a very different take on the whole thing. She smirked as if it were silly of her father not to state this from the beginning. She tugged on Zeus's beard to gain his attention. "I want," she began, her tone dreadfully mature and serious for someone of only six years of age, "to remain eternally pure and to never be confined by marriage."

Zeus glanced quickly to his son, who appeared not to have a problem with letting his sister go first, before focusing his interest on Artemis.

"I would also like a golden chariot similar to yours," Artemis continued, "and stags to lead it with." She thought for a second before continuing. "Nymphs," she stated, "I need nymphs to accompany me as I hunt... and a tunic and hounds." She nodded to herself, going over her many desires in her head. "I do not want any city in my name, as I would like to rule in the mountains."

Zeus–though caught off guard–nodded, absorbing all of his daughter's wishes.

"And a silver bow," Artemis added, smiling to herself, "like Apollo has."

At that, Zeus grinned and patted her head. "Do you wish for everything that your brother has, my love?" he asked.

Artemis pulled away and frowned. "No," she responded, shaking her head, "I want to be different than him." She blinked once and declared, as her final wish, "Give me many names so that I may not be compared."

"I think that is more than six," Zeus proclaimed, smiling at Leto, who looked towards her daughter with pride, "but you are wise beyond your years, like your dear sister, Athena, so I will make an exception."

Artemis beamed and clung herself tightly to her father. "Thank you, Papa," she whispered, burying herself in close to him, "that is all I have ever wanted."

Zeus smiled, smoothing her hair down on her head, and then looked to his son. Apollo was watching his father with a patient, distinctive look in his eyes.

"Apollo, my son," Zeus stated, "what will be your wishes?"

Apollo stood where he was, his feet planted solidly on the ground. "I do not require six wishes, Father," he said, his tone equally as mature as his sister's had been, "only one."

Zeus raised an eyebrow and rubbed his chin. He asked gruffly, "Just one? Are you sure?"

Leto, watching the exchange, smiled with a certain motherly awareness. She knew, just like she knew what Artemis would wish for, what Apollo's single desire would be.

Apollo nodded and paused only a moment before pointing high above his head to the burning orb in the sky. "I want," he said, smiling, "the sun."


End file.
